53: Keeping a Secret
by Darkening-Wings
Summary: Miranda is in the dark concerning Shepard's version of a "prank". And Garrus is a kitten.  FemShep inside, no pairings.


_Title: __Keeping a Secret__  
[From the 100 theme's challenge.]  
Author: Darkening-wings  
Rating: T. For some language.  
Summary: Miranda is in the dark concerning Shepard's version of a prank. And Garrus is a kitten. (FemShep inside, no pairings.)_

_A/N: ... My first Mass Effect (2) fic, spawned by trying to kill an endless stream of husks in that one damn anomaly thing. I may be a bit rusty, it's been ages since I wrote anything, but I was partially happy with this.  
A little OOC, though.  
And, it is 1 in the morning when I'm posting this._

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Miranda didn't seem too pleased after having seen Shepard's shooting skills up close.

To her right, one mech went up in flames, less than a second letter Garrus whooped to signal the enemy's demise.  
Shepard, however, was still busy trying to outrun her share of halfway demolished mechs among crates and other rubble in the cargo room.  
The arms of her enemies hung loose, some dragged themselves across the dirty floor as their legs were missing, some were burning as they were soon to explode, however they still managed to live through the woman's never ending array of curses and bullets and misfiring biotic abilities.

"Vakarian, tell me something." Miranda said and propped herself upon one of the crates, making herself comfortable as the sniper took down his last target. He then sighed to himself, seeming pleased, and looked up at her. "Yes?"

"Why would the Illusive man even bother to bring back this..." Miranda gestured to the formerly dead commander with a grimace that showed her scorn. "... This unruly idiot who can't hit a target if it so presents her its head?"

"She's probably just a bit rusty." The turian scratched the scarred side of his face. "Unlike me or you, she's been in a coma for the past two years, if I got the story right."

A deafening explosion sent a piece of a mech-chest bouncing off of the top of his head, and it was with a low "ouch" that he ducked further down behind the crates. Miranda, on the other hand, didn't seem too faced as scraps of metal flew past her, and she only waved the dust out of her face when the blast wave had subsided.  
She watched as the woman who caused it all crawled out from beneath a pile of still-twitching limbs and fading lights, unscathed. Mentioned woman stood up, brushed some dust off of her armor and cleared her throat before strolling over to her two companions (turian part of it still taking cover).

"Commander," Miranda said, her eyes shooting nothing less but degrading sparklies at Shepard. She then proceeded to fix her hair and forget about her superior's existence.

"Miranda, Garrus." Shepard greeted, and leaned over the crate to pat the latter's fringe. "Good job."

"You too, Commander." At least the turian was enjoying himself. More so as Shepard's hand reached below his fringe to scratch the somewhat softer scales and skin; the following low rumbling sound, originating from somewhere between his chest area and throat, was proof enough of that.

Miranda eyed them for a moment, (not admitting that slight spark of jealousy that made the corners of her mouth twitch downwards,) and then sighed. "Shepard- no, Jane. You put the whole mission at risk with your... tricking the enemy."

"You go by first names now?" The Commander grinned.

"_You_ almost blew yourself up. And I don't want to mention the billions of credits Cerberus spent on rebuilding you."

"Don't worry, Miranda. Shepard usually makes out on top, even if the odds are against it," Garrus muttered, and continued with a needy little "go more to the left,_ please_."

The Commander moved her hand and a long, contented sigh followed, the turian's whole body seemed to become more of a bag of scales, skin, and flesh as he murmured something approving before resuming what appeared to be an alien version of purring.

"As our Gunnery Officer just said, I'm not to be taken too lightly. Even though I have a hard time hitting my target, I have a way of... How should I put it," Miranda watched Shepard's amused face with growing hatred. "I have a way of causing disaster."

She winked.  
Miranda merely raised an eyebrow.

"I think we should get back to the shuttle. I have reports to deal with, unlike you, Commander." She grumbled and stood up, and added with a dismissive gesture; "This mission was a disaster."

On that very moment, a piece of heavy metal decided to fall from its usual place on the wall with a sound akin to a thousand drums in Hell. Once the noise had died out, Jane couldn't help but consider Miranda's glare a potential weapon against maturing krogan warriors.

"Commander."

"Miranda."

And with that the Executive Officer stomped off in a manner unbefitting of a fine woman such as herself.

Once she was well out of hearing range, Garrus decided that everything was clear and looked up into the face of a still amused Commanding Officer.

"Well, crap, Shepard."

"I got on her bad side, but it was totally worth it." Jane flashed another grin. "The look on her face when she evaluated my combat skills was priceless. Not to mention her grand finale. Thanks for the help, Garrus."

His facial plates moved only slightly, the turian version of a gentler smile.

"You're welcome. And don't worry, I won't tell the Illusive man or some other Cerberus operative that you're playing a prank." He stretched, groaning. "Now, more massage, less talking. My neck has been sore for... I have no idea how long."


End file.
